


Just Hold On (We're Going Home)

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22187941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: Eliot gets hurt.  This time, he's got a place to go to and friends to take care of him.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 115
Collections: Leverage Secret Santa Exchange (Mod Gifts)





	Just Hold On (We're Going Home)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kiss_me_cassie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/gifts).



Sometimes, after one of those jobs that takes too long and has too many guards and things don’t go quite right, when Eliot ends up with more bruises and cuts than he cares to count - sometimes, he spirals dangerously low.

It’s hard, his job. There’s no way around that. He wouldn’t have it any other way, would never leave his team to fight these battles on their own. But it takes its toll on him. And not just on his body. He feels it mentally. The stress, the worry, the fear. It all can get too much sometimes. 

Today is one of those times. It’s bad, this time, bad enough that he doesn’t even make it back to his apartment. They regroup at the bar after the job. Normally Eliot likes to knock back a beer or two before heading back to his place. Tonight, he can barely lift his head off the table. 

“You don’t look good.” Nate says. “Why don’t you go home?” 

Eliot drags himself upright. “Yeah.” He agrees. It’s a nice thought, but he rode his bike here, and he can’t imagine getting on it is a good idea right now. 

Hardison and Parker are deep in discussion over by the bar, but they look over to where Eliot is sitting. “You need a lift?” Hardison asks.

Eliot normally would wave the offer away. He’s used to being alone when he gets like this. But the thought of trying to get himself home is too much at the moment.

“Yeah.” He says instead. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Parker hops in the front seat, leaving the back to Eliot. He sprawls out, and his eyes are closed before the damn car even starts moving. He’d never let himself be so relaxed around anyone other than Parker and Hardison. But with them, he feels safe enough to drift off a little to the sounds of Parker talking and Hardison singing along - badly - to the radio.

He wakes up twenty minutes later when Parker shakes him awake. “We’re home.” She says. It’s not until Eliot’s halfway into the building that he realizes this isn’t his apartment building. 

“What are we doing here?”

“Going home.” Parker says.

Eliot wants to argue that this is not, in fact, his home (not that he really considers anywhere _home_ , but that’s for another day) but he doesn’t have the energy. And, if really pressed, he might admit that having the other two bring him to their home feels… good. Really good, in fact. 

So Eliot hobbles along after Parker, Hardison hovering behind him like the mother hen he tries to pretend he’s not. The softness of the leather couch is a welcome relief on his sore muscles and battered body, and he sinks back with a sigh. Parker perches on the coffee table, legs crossed and a concerned frown on her face. Hardison, meanwhile, brings over a couple of ice packs and a blanket. Eliot takes both gratefully.

“Thanks.” He says. Parker helps him arrange the ice packs where they are most needed and grabs a kitchen towel to dull the freezing cold of the one he needs for his black eye. 

“We’re a team.” Hardison reminds him.

“Yeah.” Eliot agrees. He glances at Parker and sees the concerned etched on her face. Hardison, too, looks worried. Eliot’s been on teams and squads and whatnot before. He knows what that sort of concern looks like. This, though - 

It’s too much to consider right now. His head is pounding and his whole body aches. All he really wants to do is close his eyes and sleep until the worst of the pain has passed.

“We’ve got you.” Parker says. She reaches out and touches Eliot’s hand. “Okay?”

Maybe, if Eliot wasn’t hurt, he would question Parker’s statement. As it is, it’s easy just to nod and close his eyes, safe in the knowledge that Hardison’s security system will keep any bad guys out. Parker doesn’t move her hand. That, too, makes him feel safe.

It’s light out when Eliot wakes, the angle of the sunlight coming into the apartment suggesting it’s now mid-morning and he slept straight through the night. Most of his injuries have faded to a dull pain, although there are a few that might need some taking care of. He’ll deal with that in a bit. 

There’s noise in the background, pans clattering and bacon sizzling. There’s also a faint scent of charred - something. Pancakes, maybe? Eliot groans as he tries to sit up, the dull pain flaring into something sharper as he moves. 

Hardison is by his side in a minute, handing him a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. Eliot accepts them gratefully. Parker arrives a moment later with a plate of pancakes (mostly edible) and bacon and more maple syrup than any one person really needs. 

“Thanks for taking care of me.” Eliot says. He looks down at his plate and sighs. “I really appreciate it.”

“We’re friends.” Hardison says, and doesn’t that just hit Eliot like a ton of bricks. _Friends_. Yeah. That’s what makes this so different.


End file.
